


Our Colors

by Demon_Apostle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Apostle/pseuds/Demon_Apostle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Halsey's song Colors and tumblr ships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Overwatch. It all belongs to Blizzard.
> 
> So I got the idea for this from the tumblr ships that use that one bit from Colors by Halsey. It kind of hurt to write this. Please don't kill me.

_You were_ **_red_ **

_And you liked me because I was_ **_blue_ **

 

For Hanzo Shimada, the very idea that someone was actually willing to spend time with him was unfathomable. He knew his own personality very well, knew he wasn't the easiest to talk to or get along with. Everything was examined for ulterior motives or just plain ignored. His childhood had taught him such, what with the few who approached despite his family name. They were quick to turn away, not because of his family, but because Hanzo hadn't made it easy for someone to get along with him.

 

So for this outgoing man to approach Hanzo, talk to him like he wanted to genuinely spend time with this emotional wreck of a person, the expectations were set as such: he'll leave at some point once he gets tired of trying. Hanzo couldn't afford to have anyone get too close anyway, not with the lives they lived, the people wanting their heads. It would just end up being unnecessary leverage against them.

 

Yet this man didn't stop trying, just became more determined every time Hanzo rejected him. It wasn't like Hanzo didn't want the company. Solitude can only be comforting for a certain amount of time and he had ten years worth. But there was no way McCree would want to continue to be with Hanzo after getting to know every little detail. No one who got to know Hanzo ever stayed so why would he be any different?

 

He had never accounted for the cowboy's immense patience and fortitude. Everything was careful with McCree, from talking to touching. He didn't try to goad Hanzo, didn't try and take more than he could, and the archer thought that there might have been a chance McCree would stay with this broken shell of what Hanzo used to be. Even Genji was pushing Hanzo, telling him it'd be a good thing to let McCree in. Genji assured him that the man meant no harm and was sincere in his actions towards Hanzo.

 

So he took a chance, allowed McCree to get closer than he had anyone outside of his family before, and found that Genji had been right. McCree truly was sincere in every aspect, treated Hanzo like a person worthy of love and care. It was still so foreign to the archer, experiencing honest kindness and love that he thought he fell short when he couldn't show McCree the same amount most of the time.

 

He's assured that it's enough he even tries and Hanzo feels close to tears that someone could love him this much.

 

McCree's humor, though, is something to be desired and tolerated, especially when Hanzo ends up dreaming weird things because of it.

 

A dream of blue dragons wearing red serapes and cuddling under a Sakura tree.

 

 _You touched me, and suddenly I was a_ **_lilac_ ** _sky_

 

Hanzo was sure now, McCree would never take what wasn't offered, and treat Hanzo like he was less than another human being. Everything was careful, soft, and wouldn't be taken too far unless told to do so. McCree wouldn't push Hanzo unless the man asked him to and Hanzo wondered what had he done in all his existence to be allowed to have such a person love him.

 

As far as he knew, nothing. Hanzo hadn't done a damn thing to deserve someone like McCree. He was kind, lovable, everything Hanzo wasn't and never had been. It's during a cold night spent inside McCree's room that Hanzo is told otherwise.

 

He'd been foolish and allowed his emotions to show. He didn't cry, a Shimada never cried, but McCree had seen through him all the same. Saw the pain and fear that ate at Hanzo and he wanted to correct it. McCree knew it wasn't because of what they were planning for that night, as both were still mostly clothed and had only resorted to a few light touches. It was something more that Hanzo had probably been dealing with for awhile.

 

“Are ya alright darlin’? Somethin’ wrong?” Hanzo thinks that maybe he looks nervous for their first time and shakes his head.

 

“I told you I was fine with this.” McCree inhales sharply and warm fingers brush against Hanzo's cheek.

 

“That ain't what I meant, sweetheart.” Oh… _oh._ He had been that obvious then. A crack in his mask, apparently. Of all the things to happen, and of all nights for it to happen on. He supposed that if they were going to have this talk, it might as well have been while both were relaxed and not too far along in their first time with each other. Hanzo isn't sure what to say or how to approach the subject, but he settles for the same as all his other actions: direct.

 

“Why do you treat me so kindly? I have done nothing to deserve anything you give me.” He expected a look of shock, maybe even anger, but all he got was a gentle smile and loving gaze. It almost makes his heart stop.

 

“That ain't true, darlin’. If anythin’, I should be the one askin’ how I got yerself.” Hanzo goes to retort with an _I'm nothing special_ , but McCree has already stopped him with a finger on his lips.

 

“Yer gorgeous, sweet pea. And I don't mean only yer looks. Ya look out for others and try ta be kind. Not ta mention yer tryin’ ta rebuild what ya had with Genji. Yer a work in progress sometimes but yer definitely tryin’. Really, I should be the one askin’ how I got Hanzo Shimada ta love me.” By the end, Hanzo had to revoke his own words about Shimadas never crying. He felt the tears falling down his cheeks, some sliding into his hair as he laid down, and wondered how he had lived so long without this ridiculous cowboy by his side. McCree didn't try to stop his crying or make fun of him for it, just held the man close and whispered sweet nothings. Promises of love and comfort if Hanzo so wished it, and he most certainly did.

 

Hanzo knew he probably looked like a gross, sobbing mess but McCree didn't try to push him away when the archer kissed him. It was slow, sweet, full of everything one couldn't convey with simple words.

 

He doesn't know how long they stayed like that, McCree holding Hanzo close to him, but by the time he stopped, the sun was rising. He looked out the single window of the room and smiled at the image before him.

 

A sky mixed in colors of red, blue, and purple.

 

_Then you decided…_

 

Hanzo should have known from the very beginning. He should have seen the storm that would eventually burst into his life and ruin any chance of happiness he had. Everything had been going too well lately. He was truly happy for once in his life. He had a family of friends who cared for him, his brother who he could talk to without a strong feeling of guilt weighing him down, and a man who treated him like he was the very sun itself. All the signs pointed to disaster waiting just down the road, but he was too blind to notice.

 

That's how the impact was so great. Why the news broke him so much. They had been on separate missions so it was only natural he couldn't have stopped it. That's what they all tell him at least. But if he had been there, was part of the mission with McCree, he might have been able to do something. Instead, they return back to base with downcast faces and the words to shatter Hanzo.

 

McCree had been captured by Talon.

 

It was a known fact that those Talon took never came back. They were either killed, continuously tortured until they broke, or changed so that they become nothing but mindless puppets. If McCree had truly been taken by Talon, they had to find him quickly before anything permanent was done to him.

 

But they didn't know where to look. Talon was elusive and had disappeared just as quickly as they showed up, taking out most of the team and capturing McCree as a prize. Winston was working almost nonstop trying to track their movements. It was days before they finally found something to go on, pinpointing the enemy's movements to an old facility somewhere in Russia. The information had barely gotten to every person on the team before a rescue party was made. Ana, Genji, Tracer, Jack, and Hanzo. He almost wasn't allowed to join but he insisted and wouldn't be told no.

 

At the facility, Hanzo was shaking with rage and anxiety. He wanted to kill every single agent, but he didn't know the status of McCree. Was he safe, was he hurt, had they already killed him? Hanzo had to know and he prepared himself to take down as many enemies as he could on his search for McCree.

 

They split off into teams, Genji with Jack and Hanzo with Tracer. Ana stayed just outside the facility so she could warn them if more agents showed up.

 

The inside of the building was big, multiple hallways with too many rooms for Hanzo's liking. The longer he searched, the more frustrated he became. They ran into enemies at almost every turn but they were quickly dispatched of. An angered dragon wasn't the most merciful, and they experienced it firsthand.

 

When they reached a hallway that split off, Hanzo had suggested they do the same to cover more ground. Tracer almost seemed reluctant but agreed and Hanzo was soon by himself in his search for McCree. It still took too long, more hallways, more doors. Every room was either empty or housed a dead body. Torture victims, if he had to guess. He hoped, wished, prayed that McCree wasn't going to be like them.

 

He almost felt like giving up when a lucky chance had him opening a door with McCree sitting in the middle of the room and hunched over. He was strapped to a metal chair that had been bolted to the floor and Hanzo felt his heart jump. He found McCree. But was he alive? He rushed over, and breathed in relief when McCree's chest expanded then dropped. Still alive. Hanzo worked on undoing the straps, barely registering the thought that he needed to check in with the team. He had just undone the last strap when McCree stirred and lifted his head a bit.

 

“Jesse? Can you hear me?” McCree groaned and Hanzo smiled.

 

“We're going to take you back. Just hold on.” He pressed a finger to the button on his communicator and spoke.

 

“I have found McCree. He is a little beat up but-” His arm was suddenly grabbed and he was tossed into one of the walls. His quiver dug into his back as he landed on it and Hanzo let out a strangled whimper at the pain. His teammates were asking questions in his ear but he didn't pay them any attention. His eyes were solely focused on McCree who was standing over him with a blank look.

 

“Jesse?” The man said nothing and drew the gun still holstered by his side. That struck Hanzo as odd. Why had Talon not taken his gun? Why was he acting so weird? Hanzo's instincts kicked in when the gun was aimed at him and the trigger was pulled. He barely managed to dodge, the bullet scraping the ankle of a prosthetic leg, and proceeded to dodge a few more. But the room was small and didn't provide Hanzo with any cover or much room to maneuver. It was only a matter of time before a bullet caught flesh and he fell against one of the walls. Blood was now cascading down his side in a massive amount. The pain told Hanzo that it must have hit an organ. Another bullet was shot and hit his arm, producing a pained scream from the archer. He slumped against the wall and stared at McCree who didn't seem the least bit disturbed or aware of what he was doing. That was when it occurred to Hanzo.

 

McCree was now under the influence of Talon. He was now their puppet. That was why he still had his gun, because he was basically no longer a threat to them. To Hanzo, however… it took everything he had to not cry for the second time in his life.

 

McCree was gone, taken by the hands of Talon and Hanzo was too late to stop it. Now he was going to die by McCree's hands, unable to fight back as he didn't have the will.

 

_Genji is going to be mad._

 

Hanzo managed a small smile despite the pain and watched as his blood began to pool around him and stain his clothes.

 

Red. It reminded him so much of McCree's serape. Strangely, it also reminded him of that dream he had. Blue dragons wearing red serapes.

 

_What a strange thing to remember right now._

 

Hanzo looked up at McCree whose gun was aimed at the archer's chest. The others were still screaming into his ear, demanding to know what had happened. Hanzo didn't answer as he continued to smile at the man who practically gave him everything.

 

“It is not your fault. I… am sorry we took so long.” The pain almost took his speech but Hanzo wouldn't allow it. Not now. McCree didn't seem to register the words as he walked closer, gun still aimed at Hanzo's heart. A few more steps and his feet were at Hanzo's.

 

And then he fired.

 

Hanzo heard the gunshot, felt the initial pulling of his skin as the bullet entered. It didn't take long for more pain to wrack his body and his head finally slumped forward. Hanzo was tired, so very tired. His eyes closed, but he still smiled as he remembered the three colors of that sunrise.

  
_…_ **_purple_ ** _just wasn't for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost want to do a sequel chapter where McCree is saved and deals with what happened.
> 
> But I think I've caused enough pain now.
> 
> Update: It has been done


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you all wanted a sequel chapter. Here you go.

Jesse McCree was aware that he had done some immensely stupid things during his life. And it wasn't just 'caught with a girl you had snuck in’ stupid. It was 'accidentally revealed every secret you possibly had to a guy that hated your guts’ stupid. Though to be fair, he was sure his former boss wasn't listening half the time and only partly hated his guts. But this stupidity was on a whole nother level.

 

He had gotten captured by Talon while on a mission. That wasn't to say he hadn't gotten captured by an enemy organization before, but those days were different and he didn't have the life he was currently living. He's part of a team that loves him like they're family, has friends who he can talk to about anything, and now has a lover like no one has seen before.

 

Hanzo Shimada, of all people, who could probably kill a man with his glare alone. He embodied the very thing McCree had heard about in cliche stories where the main character's enemy was also the potential love interest: beautiful but deadly. And he belonged to none other than McCree.

 

Although he should probably correct himself: he _had_ belonged to McCree. He _had_ been his lover.

 

Like McCree said, he has done some very stupid things. And he now felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

 

Why had he not been more careful? Why had he allowed Talon to get the upper hand? Why did he not have the strength to fight against them when he was aiming his gun at Hanzo?

 

Now his love was gone, taken by his own hand.

 

The worst part is he remembers. Everything Talon did, everything Talon made him do, he remembers. The memories are so clear, it's almost like a movie that keeps replaying.

 

It all starts when he's taken to that facility. Dragged to a room and strapped to a chair that won't budge an inch. His wrists are first, then his ankles, finally his torso. They're much too tight for his liking but he figures they don't care if he's comfortable or not.

 

The next thing to happen is genuine torture. They don't break his bones, those would take too long to heal, but they do rough him up a bit. Some punches to the gut, the face, kicks to his legs. Nothing he can't handle. But then they pull out syringes. Each seems to be filled with a different liquid. What they are, he has no idea. But he knows that if they plan on using them on McCree, they can't be good.

 

He ends up being right when the first needle is pushed into his arm. He tried to break the straps but they were much too thick to give way to sheer force. So he watched as the liquid was pushed into his bloodstream and he choked on a scream.

 

It was like liquid fire in his body. He felt much too hot and he was almost convinced he was melting from the inside out.

 

The cycle continued, every new syringe producing a different reaction. They never asked him anything, never taunted McCree, and that was possibly the scariest part. They tortured him, but not for information. He couldn't figure out what they wanted.

 

All he could think about was his friends. They were probably trying to find him. Hanzo must be frantic by now. McCree hoped to see Hanzo at least one more time. He didn't want to die without one more I love you. But maybe it was better if he didn't, since that would make dying much harder for them both.

 

On his third day of being held captive, McCree notices a change. The syringes are still there, but it's not a liquid. The same guy is still there, but this time he speaks to McCree.

 

“Now we reach the fun part. I hope you don't have a problem with nanobots.” He didn't but he still didn't want anything to do with them.

 

And the realization hits McCree like a train. They didn't ask for information because that wasn't their goal. They wanted to make McCree one of them and would use the nanobots to do so.

 

McCree struggled again, exposed flesh of his wrist being rubbed by the fabric of his restraints. The last thing he wanted was for his free will to be taken.

 

But that's exactly what they did. The nanobots took over, started rewriting how McCree ticked. His world went black and he was forced to look out from the inside.

 

That very same day, Hanzo appeared in front of him. McCree thought he was hallucinating, that the nanobots were toying with him or trying to erase his past memories. But he then notices he's still in the facility and that Hanzo is real. He wants to hug the man, but finds he can't. His body won't listen.

 

The nanobots have control.

 

McCree now screams on the inside. He can't move, can't control his own actions, and Hanzo isn't the slightest bit aware.

 

And then his restraints are undone. McCree watches as he throws Hanzo into a wall. He watches as he draws his gun and aims at Hanzo. The man has enough sense to move and McCree thinks there's a chance he'll escape. His hope is shattered when he shoots Hanzo in the side and red pours down his hip. Another shot into the arm and Hanzo slumps against the wall.

 

McCree is pleading with the nanobots to stop. He can't watch this, can't watch himself kill the man he loves.

 

Hanzo then smiles at him and McCree's heart shatters to pieces. He mutters out words that McCree almost doesn't hear but he does and it kills him. Hanzo knows McCree isn't doing this because he wants to and has accepted what's about to happen. But McCree be damned if he's going to just sit back and watch.

 

He tries everything, from screaming to trying to force his hand to drop the gun. The nanobots don't let him and he's walking closer to Hanzo. McCree can't let this happen, but he can't seem to fight the nanobots.

 

He stops, fires, and watches as Hanzo's body slumps forward. The silence after his gun goes off is breaking McCree. His eyes never leave Hanzo, hoping he'll see a twitch of movement that tells him he isn't dead.

 

A few minutes of nothing until there's a noise behind him and he turns just in time for Jack to knock him out with the end of his pulse rifle. McCree welcomes the darkness this time and hopes he wakes up to find out it was all a dream.

 

Cruel reality tells him it wasn't as he wakes up in the infirmary back at base. Angela is next to him, tapping away on a data pad before she notices his eyes open.

 

And she's silent. She doesn't speak and McCree thinks that it's not like the doctor to not talk. They just wait in silence until McCree asks what he has to.

 

“What did I do?” He already knows. He watched himself do it. But confirmation from others will tell him whether it was a dream or not.

 

Angela still doesn't talk, but her face says everything. She then moves away from the cot only to come back a few seconds later with a ribbon.

 

A yellow ribbon that he knows all too well.

 

She holds it out and McCree has to force his arm up in order to take it. When he's finally holding it, McCree wheezes, bites his lip, and allows the tears to fall freely. Angela walks out of the infirmary and McCree silently thanks her for the privacy as he cries and screams.

 

He gets visitors every now and then, Lena and Winston visiting more often than the rest, and he notices something that he doesn't want to ask about.

 

Genji hasn't come to visit him since the incident.

 

He thinks it's for the best. If he were in Genji's place, he probably wouldn't want to see the man who killed his brother either. Not after they had finally gotten over the turmoil caused by their family.

 

So McCree doesn't leave his room. He sits on his bed most of the time, a cigar smoking between his lips and bottles of whiskey laying by his feet. He isn't sure what to do, really. The memory of Hanzo is on repeat in his head and never before did McCree ever think he'd be scared at the sound of a gunshot. Especially from his own gun. Now it just sits on the chair, taunting him as a reminder of what he did.

 

Everyone tries to get McCree to leave his room. Reinhardt and Lena try to coax him out with food. Lucio and Hana try talking about new games and music in hopes that he'll join them for a bit. Ana and Jack use more harsh methods by telling him he needs to man up and move on. McCree knows they're right, but it just hurts too much.

 

Finally, there's a knock followed by a familiar mechanical voice. McCree bites hard into his cigar and debates not opening the door. But who is he to deny Genji anything after what he did?

 

He puts down the cigar, opens the door, and expects Genji to do or say something. But he says nothing. He does nothing. There's no harsh words, no punch to the face like McCree was expecting, and it takes him everything to not ask why out loud. They just stand there in silence before Genji finally speaks.

 

“You do not look well.” McCree feels angry. He knows damn well he looks like a wreck. He hasn't eaten or bathed in days, stomach full of nothing but smoke and alcohol. But for Genji to just blatantly ignore the very reason McCree is doing this to himself, it irks him. McCree won't stand for it.

 

“Days of ignorin’ me just ta say I look bad? Try again, partner.” He really shouldn't be angry like this, especially not towards Genji of all people, but he has to try and get something, _anything_ to know how this man feels about him.

 

Genji inhales sharply but doesn't retaliate.

 

“I.. am not sure what to say. What is it you expect from me?” McCree feels like he's about to boil over.

 

“What do I expect? Why in God's name aren't ya tryin’ ta hit me?! Ya should be angry, upset, somethin'! Shout at me, hit me, I don't care! Ya have ta wanna do somethin’! Because of me Hanzo… Hanzo is…” He can't finish the sentence and hangs his head as tears fall again. Genji doesn't move but McCree can't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he's crying in front of someone. It's only when he calms down a bit does Genji talk again.

 

“I am angry. I am angry that you were taken by Talon. I am angry that Talon turned you against us. I am angry that my brother is dead. I… I _was_ angry at you. But meditation has helped me see that you are not at fault, Jesse. I do not bare any sort of grudge against you so I do not know what you expect from me. I just came to tell you that what you are doing… it would upset Hanzo greatly to see you doing this to yourself.” McCree can't take it. He just can't. So he falls to his knees, head in his hands as he apologizes over and over for what he's done. Sorry is all he says, even when Genji kneels to pull McCree closer as he cries.

 

The next thing he has to deal with is the funeral. It had been postponed since they needed to gather everything before it could be held, but it's done nonetheless with Genji explaining to them a traditional Japanese funeral. They try to do one but find they lack most of the required items for a full funeral so they settle for going through the wake then burying Hanzo on a nearby hill. A massive headstone is placed where he was buried and when everyone leaves, McCree and Genji are the last ones left. Genji's hand is on his shoulder and McCree is holding Hanzo's ribbon. A choice is made and he ties it to the headstone, watching as it whips in the wind much like it did when Hanzo still wore it.

 

It starts getting a little better from there. McCree has decided to visit the mess hall every now and then, eating with the rest of the team who are more than happy to include him in the conversations. He still has a few problems holding a gun again but the others help him work through it. He visits Hanzo's grave nearly every day, finding it soothes him to talk to the headstone.

  
He's not fully healed, knows he'll probably never be, but it gets a bit better. Always just a little bit better when he sees that yellow ribbon swaying in the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone still alive?


End file.
